Sunshine and Shadows
by Aireon Maris
Summary: After his encounter with the Mohra demon, Angel finds a reason to stay human.
1. Chapter 1

Sunshine and Shadows

After his encounter with the Mohra demon, Angel finds a reason to stay human.

Author's note: I think Joss handled Angel's humanity massively wrong so this is me fixing it.

Disclaimer: I'm borrowing all the recognizable characters. I just didn't tell Joss Wheedon or Mutant enemy. Please don't stake me.

Flames will be used to roast marshmellows.

Buffy looked up sharply when Angel clattered down the steps into the apartment. She smiled at first in greeting, but it faded when she caught sight of his face. "I'm guessing that expression isn't because they were all out of fresh OJ at the deli," she said dryly. "What happened?"

"Nothing happened," he replied, looking extremely distracted. He paced toward her suddenly, then paused and paced away. "I just…"

When he didn't finish, Buffy put her hands on her hips. "Where have you been?"

He whirled around, his brown eyes wide and full of confusion. "I went to see the Oracles. I asked them to turn me back."

Her mouth dropped open in horror. "What?" she demanded. "_Why?_"

He clenched his fists. "Because more than ever I know how much I love you."

She backed away, unable and unwilling to accept that they had had only one night together. "No," she whispered. "No, you didn't."

Angel took a deep breath and walked over to her, putting his hands on her shoulders. "Buffy, something bad is coming. You heard what the Mohra demon said."

"But he's dead," she insisted. "We killed him, remember?"

Angel shook his head. "It doesn't matter. Listen to me. Something big is on its way and one or both of us is going to die. I asked them to turn me back, but then they told me, and I couldn't…"

Hope entered her hazel-green eyes. "Wait, you're staying? You're going to stay with me?" She reached up to touch his face, running her fingers along beloved and well-remembered features. He caught her hand and pressed it against his cheek.

"I'm staying," he said softly, but there was little joy in his expression, only apprehension. "Buffy…"

"What is it?" she asked, frowning. "What did the Oracles tell you?"

He took her face in both hands and kissed her sweetly. When he pulled away, his eyes were mere inches from hers. "Buffy, you're pregnant."

Her heart stopped beating and her breath caught in her throat. A hand pressed involuntarily to her stomach. "From—from last night?" she whispered. Angel nodded.

"When they told me that, I couldn't undo it. I just couldn't bring myself to it," he said. "I'm sorry."

Buffy's face became determined. "Don't be." When Angel opened his mouth to speak, she put her fingers over his lips. "I don't care what's coming, Angel. I don't care if the whole damn world is going to end. I've stopped it before and I'll do it again. I can do anything as long as you're with me. And now," She smiled sadly. "All the more reason for us to be together."

Angel looked away, unable to meet her gaze. She took hold of his chin made him look at her. "If we die tomorrow, or next month, or next year, it doesn't matter. I love you, Angel. We have something to live for. Please, please be happy about this."

His brown eyes bored into her green ones and finally began to soften. "I love you," he whispered fiercely. "Oh God, I love you so much."

*****

"So, what are you going to do now?"

Angel turned his head to look at Doyle. The Irish half-demon leaned his elbows against the half-wall. The two of them had used this spot on the roof many times for heart-to-hearts. "We're going back to Sunnydale," he replied. "Doyle, I don't want you to think that I'm abandoning you—"

"I'd never think that, mate," Doyle interrupted firmly. He clapped Angel on the shoulder. "You're free now, man. And Buffy's needed on the Hellmouth. Go be with her. I wish you both joy."

"What about you? A-and Cordelia? What are you going to do?"

Doyle shrugged philosophically. "The Powers That Be will find someone else for me to bother," he said with a wry grin. "As for Cordelia, well, I asked her to stay with me."

Angel's eyebrows shot up. "And?"

His friend's smile grew a little wider. "And she said yes."

The knot of tension in Angel's chest eased a little. At least he knew his friends would be taken care of. "That's good. That's really good." He stretched out a hand towards Doyle. "Good luck."

Doyle shook it warmly. "You too, Angel."

They fell into companionable silence. Angel suddenly turned to his friend. "And did I tell you Buffy's pregnant?"

Doyle laughed. "Only about a thousand times, mate!"


	2. Chapter 2

"Are you sure you're ready for this?" Angel asked quietly, looking over at Buffy. She stared out the windshield at the house across the street. Her house.

"Not really," she sighed. "I'm trying to run different scenarios through my head and so far I'm not liking any of them."

He reached over and took her hand. She marveled at how warm it was. "It's going to be okay. Together, remember?"

She smiled. "All three of us." Her hand rested on her still-flat stomach. In fact, it would be months before she started to show. "Let's get this over with." She climbed out of Angel's convertible and circled around the car to his side. When he didn't immediately start walking across the street, she looked up quizzically. "What is it?"

"You," he said softly, reaching up to touch her hair. "In the sunlight. You…you're glowing."

She smiled and took his hand. "That would be because of you," she informed him.

Rather than barge in on whatever her mother was doing, Buffy knocked on the front door and waited. After a moment, Joyce Summers opened it and looked first at Buffy, and then at the man beside her.

Joyce sighed and seemed to deflate slightly. "Okay, I give up," she said wearily. "First you say he's your history tutor, then your boyfriend. He's good, bad, and good again. What is he now?"

"Human," Buffy said simply. "Can we come in?"

Joyce blinked several times. "Oh, my god. Sunlight. You—you can't be in sunlight. What's going on?"

"We'll explain everything," Angel promised. "Can we come in?"

Buffy's mother stepped aside. "Oh, yes, of course. Can I—uh—get you anything? I have lemonade, and tea—"

"Lemonade would be great," Angel said, his voice and demeanor calm. "Thank you, Joyce."

When the older woman retreated to the kitchen, Buffy and Angel seated themselves on the couch. Angel took Buffy's hand and pulled it into his lap, tracing designs over her palm and wrist. Joyce returned and handed them each a tumbler full of lemonade. Buffy watched Angel closely as he took his first sip. He made a face. "Wow. That's sour."

"Oh, I-I'm sorry, I guess I didn't put enough sugar in it," Joyce began, looking extremely agitated. Angel hurried to assure her.

"No, no, it's okay. It's just that—well, I've never really tasted lemonade before."

"And this has to do with you being in the sunlight," Joyce said hesitantly.

"Angel's human, now," Buffy spoke up, unable to hold it in anymore. "His blood mixed with a Mohra demon's and he's mortal again."

Joyce's mouth dropped open and she stared at the former vampire. "I-is that t-true?" she stammered. "Is that even p-possible?"

Angel got to his feet and walked over to the chair Mrs. Summers had collapsed into. "May I?" he asked gently. She continued to stare at him, so he took her hand and placed it on his chest over his heart. Her eyes widened as she felt his pulse: undeniable proof he was alive.

"I-I don't know what to say." She shook her head. "When did this happen?"

"Last week," Angel replied, returning to the couch. "Believe me, I know exactly how you feel. It was a shock for me, too."

Joyce massaged her temples. "So…I guess this means you two are getting back together?" she asked after a long silence. Buffy and Angel exchanged a look.

"Mom," Buffy began quietly. "Things are different now. Angel's human. He-he's safe. It's okay for us to be together." Her mouth twisted wryly. "He's also not going to outlive me by several centuries."

Joyce stood abruptly, her hands flapping. "I-I, uh, have to go. Have to be at the gallery. I'll see you later, okay? Dinner? Yes, dinner's fine." She grabbed her purse and fled out the door, leaving Angel and Buffy staring after her.

"That…went well," Angel finally ventured. Buffy snorted and put her head in her hands.

"Just wait until we tell Giles and the others," she said. Angel winced.

*****

The door to Giles' house was open and Buffy walked in. Willow and Oz were on the couch in each other's arms, looking very content. Xander and Anya were doing something in the kitchen, either making out or making tea—Buffy couldn't tell. Giles sat at his desk, glasses dangling from one hand as he read from a dusty old book.

"Oh, hey Buff," Willow greeted. "When did you get back?"

"This afternoon," Buffy replied, not moving to sit down.

"How was your visit with your dad?" Oz asked politely.

"Uneventful," Buffy said with a note of gratitude. Her relationship with her father was becoming more and more strained, due not in the least to the fact she viewed Giles more as a father than her own flesh and blood.

She looked down at her hands, twisted together and white-knuckled. She and Angel had decided it would be best if he wasn't here for this, but she ached at being apart from him. "There's something…" she began before trailing off. "Giles, something happened in LA."

He put on his glasses and focused his attention immediately on her. "Were you hurt?" he asked, examining her closely.

"No," Buffy said quickly. "I'm fine. It's just—I saw Angel," she said finally. Then a flash of anger gave her confidence. "Why didn't you tell me he was in Sunnydale?" she demanded, putting her hands on her hips. "Don't you think I had the right to know?"

Giles sighed and whipped his glasses off again, cleaning them on his shirt. "He asked me not to tell you," he said, aware of how lame it sounded. "And—and I thought he was correct. It would only have hurt you to know he was in town."

Buffy crossed her arms. "Not that it matters anymore," she muttered. "While I was at his office, we were attacked by a Mohra demon," she continued. Giles' face lit up.

"Really? How extraordinary! What was it like? What do you remember?"

"Green, ninja, big sword," Buffy replied sarcastically. "Angel fought it and his blood mixed with the Mohra's."

Giles blinked at her. "I'm assuming there is some significance to that fact?" he said hesitantly.

Buffy nodded. "Apparently mixing your blood with the blood of a Mohra demon's is the cure for vampirism," she said flatly. Her words fell like iron weights on the dead-silent room.

"What?" It was Xander who finally broke the tension. "What do you mean, cure?"

"I mean, Angel's human again," Buffy said softly. Giles slowly got to his feet.

"That's impossible," he said. Buffy turned the full force of her stare at Giles until the former Watcher had to turn away. "I mean, th-that's incredible. I've never heard—there's no precedent."

"It's true," Buffy insisted. "He's been in the sunlight, and…and his heart beats again."

Willow got up and walked over to Buffy. "Buffy, that's amazing," she said, giving Buffy her sweetest smile. "I'm so happy for you." She hugged her friend tightly before pulling away. "I mean, I'm supposed to be happy, right? This is a good thing?"

Buffy returned Willow's smile. "Yeah, Will. It really is."

"Is Angel the vampire who had sex with Buffy and then went all psycho?" Anya asked, blunt as always.

"One and the same," Xander said grimly. "Buffy, you know how I feel about Angel and—"

"And it's too bad," Buffy snapped. "Angel's human, he's moving back to Sunnydale, and we're going to be together. Get over it, Xander. I've had enough of your passive aggressiveness towards him! I love him more than anything in this world. So if you try to force me into a choice, don't think for a second I won't choose him!" So saying, she turned and fled the house, leaving behind five very shocked people.

After a moment of silence, Oz turned to look at Xander. "Nice going," he said.


	3. Chapter 3

Buffy barely noticed where her feet took her as she fled down the street. Strong arms caught her and she buried her face against Angel's chest. "How'd it go?" he asked quietly, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"No one's head exploded, so I guess we're okay," she mumbled, basking in the feeling of his embrace. She wasn't ever going to take this for granted.

"Did you tell them about—"

"Just that you were human again," Buffy interrupted quickly. "If I told them about Angel Junior, then I bet Giles' head _would_ explode. And Xander's not long after. One thing at a time."

"See, now you're finally learning," Angel teased gently, leaning back to look at her face. "God, you are so beautiful."

"Are you ever going to get tired of telling me that?" Buffy asked, smiling despite herself. He kissed the tip of her nose.

"Will ever get tired of hearing it? Come on. Let's grab something to eat." There was an eager gleam in his dark eyes when he mentioned eating. Buffy grinned.

"Food is good, huh?"

"Food is amazing," he replied as they got into his convertible. "Can we go for hamburgers? I think I want a hamburger."

"And chocolate milkshakes," Buffy added, pushing aside her worries about her friends. Angel's face lit up.

"Chocolate!" he exclaimed in childlike delight. Buffy threw back and laughed.

*****

"Mom?" Buffy called cautiously as she stepped into the entryway. "Mom, are you home?"

"In the kitchen, dear!" Joyce called back. Buffy and Angel exchanged looks and ventured into the kitchen. Joyce smiled when they entered, and if it looked a little forced, no one was mentioning it. "Hello, Angel. I hope you like chicken alfredo."

"It smells amazing," Angel said quickly, and then his expression changed. "Is that…garlic bread?"

"Oh, yes, it just came out of the oven…oh." Joyce looked chagrined. "Garlic is bad for vampires, isn't it?"

Angel smiled gently. "Well, it's a good thing I'm not a vampire anymore."

"Right." Joyce nodded and they fell silent. Just as the tension became unbearable, Joyce spoke up again. "I want to apologize for my reaction earlier. It was all just a bit much to take in, and I'm still relatively new to all this Slayer business, so…I'm sorry."

Angel shook his head. "You don't have to apologize, Joyce. I know we threw a lot on you all at once. I think you're handling it well, though."

She brightened and gestured to the table. "Well, let's eat before the food gets cold. Angel, would you like some wine?"

Much to Buffy's relief, the dinner was far less awkward than she had expected. Angel could be quite charming when he chose to be, and was full of stories from his time in LA. Plus his effusive complements on everything edible (it turned out he really liked garlic bread, after all) made Joyce stammer and blush.

"So, what will you do now that you're human?" Joyce asked when she brought out the fresh cinnimon rolls. Angel was briefly distracted by the smell of the pastries before he answered.

"First thing I need to find a job," he said as he lifted his first bite to his mouth. Buffy bit down on a smile at the expression on Angel's face when he tasted the dessert. "Wow," he said, his eyes round. "This is…wow." He wolfed down several more bites before remembering himself and wiping icing off his chin. "I thought I'd start looking for a place to stay. Other than that, I'm sure Buffy can keep me busy."

He paused for a beat, realizing how that sounded, and continued hurridly as he blushed, "Helping her with the slaying, I mean. Hellmouth and all."

"That's good to hear," Joyce said. She got to her feet and started gathering plates.

"Oh, let me," Angel insisted, lunging to his feet. He reached to take the plates but only succeeded in knocking them from Joyce's hands. He grimaced when they shattered on the floor. "I'm so sorry, Joyce," he said, trying to gather the pieces. "It's just my reflexes aren't what they have been and sometimes I can be a little…clumsy. I'll pay for the dishes—"

"It's all right, Angel," Joyce said softly. "Don't worry about it."

They cleaned up the mess while Buffy started on the rest of the dishes. "Angel, I left a few weapons here. Feel up to a patrol?"

"Sounds good." He turned to Buffy's mother. "Dinner was amazing, Joyce."

She smiled. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I guess I'll be seeing you around again?"

He laughed quietly. "Yeah. You will."

Joyce surprised him by hugging him quickly. "Take care of Buffy," she whispered in his ear.

"I will," he murmured back. As they walked out into the growing dusk, Buffy was practically beaming. Yet Angel couldn't forget what the Oracles had told him. He snorted. Even as a human, he couldn't achieve true happiness.

*****

"…And we wouldn't even know anything about the commando guys if Spike hadn't escaped—"

"Wait, Spike?" Angel interrupted Buffy's monologue, grinding to a halt in one of Sunnydale's oh-so-familiar graveyards. "Spike is in Sunnydale?"

Buffy looked sheepish and uncomfortable. "He can't actually hurt anyone," she said defensively. Angel glared.

"Buffy, we're talking about Spike here. He's kidnapped and tortured and terrorized half your friends, including me."

Buffy bit her lower lip. "There's something in his head that keeps him from hurting humans," she said in a rush. "When he tries it goes wiggy and he says it feels like his head is exploding."

Angel looked at her strangely. "What is it with you and exploding heads?" he asked, and then waved his hand. "Doesn't matter. The point is, you can't keep Spike around, thing in his head or not. He's dangerous."

Buffy chuckled. "Oh, yeah. Real dangerous chained up in Giles' bathtub."

He blinked. "Bathtub?" he echoed. Buffy nodded. Angel blinked again. "Chained in the…huh." He gave a surprised chuckle and smiled. "Okay, that I got to see." He shook his head and laughed again. "Bathtub."

Buffy smiled, too, before her expression changed drastically. "Angel, watch out!"

He spun away instinctively, barely dodging the dark form that sped by him. The vampire skidded to a halt and lunged back in Angel's direction. Angel set his feet, balanced his weight, and punched with all his mortal strength. It was enough to knock the vampire off-balance. It was enough for Angel to plunge the stake in his hand through the vampire's heart. As it exploded into dust, Angel stepped back, feeling a strange exultation coursing through his body. He looked up to see Buffy watching him smugly.

"See," she said. "You can still fight."

"Yeah," he said, smiling back. "Guess I can." He flipped his stake up and caught it again. "I could do this all night."

Buffy sauntered up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Not _all_ night," she corrected. "We should leave some time for…other things."

Angel growled in his throat and claimed her mouth in a kiss. Suddenly, Buffy shoved him forward and he landed on his back, her on his chest. The impact drove the breath out of his lungs, which was a novel feeling since he hadn't had the need to breathe in over two centuries. As he lay contemplating that, Buffy rolled off him and lept to her feet to confront a second vampire charging from the shadows. Angel scrambled to his feet, moving to back her up.

"Geez, can we get a little privacy here?" Buffy said, glaring at the intruding vampire. It only snarled and lunged at her. She drove it back with a kick to the stomach, spinnning around to stake it in the heart. "Thank you," she muttered as it disintigrated. She turned to Angel and smiled coyly. "Where were we?"

He shook his head. "We shouldn't let ourselves be distracted," he told her. She pouted, but nodded agreement.

"Why do you always have to be so responsible?" she asked, giving him her best puppy look. Angel smiled at her.

"One of us has to be. Come on, we're almost to the school campus. You can show me your dorm."

"Willow will probably be there," Buffy said. "Unless she's with Oz. I'll just grab my overnight bag and we'll head to the hotel, okay?"

He held out his hand for her to take. "Okay."


	4. Chapter 4

Waking up with Buffy in his arms was heaven, pure and simple. The warmth of her body next to his, the feel of her breath gentle against his neck; he never wanted it to end. He ran his fingers through her blonde hair, smoothing it away from her face. He kissed her forehead, causing her to stir sleepily.

"G'morning, honey," she mumbled without opening her eyes.

"Good morning," he replied. "What time do your classes start?"

She shot bolt upright, taking most of the covers with her. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed, staring at the clock. "I have to go!"

Angel sighed. "I was afraid of that." He fished around on the floor for a moment. "Here, I think you'll need these."

Buffy blushed as she took back her undergarments and headed to the bathroom. Angel slipped out of bed and dressed as well. As he passed the mirror, movement caught him off-guard. He turned his head, startled by his own reflection. He stared at himself, mesmorized.

"Now you see why I had the hots for you in high school?" Buffy asked teasingly, coming up behind him.

"I'm not getting used to this anytime soon," he told her, turning away from the mirror. She grinned up at him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Kisses," she ordered. He obliged passionately, knowing it would have to last until lunch. "Mmm…good kisses," she murmured against his lips. "I love you."

"I love you too. Have fun."

She grabbed her purse and stopped at the door. "What are you going to do today?" she asked. Angel cocked an eyebrow.

"I think I'm going to pay Giles and my old friend Spike a visit."

Buffy laughed. "I wish I could be there to see it. Good luck!" And then she was gone, a whirl of sunshine and laughter. Angel sighed, his world instantly becoming darker. He paced the hotel room a few times, and then picked up the phone.

"Hello?" a familiar voice asked.

"Doyle, it's Angel. How are you?"

"Angel! It's great to hear from you, mate. How's Buffy?"

"She's fine. Is everything all right?" Angel rubbed the back of his head, feeling strangely restless.

"Oh, aye, everything's fantastic! It's been a quiet few days and would you believe, I asked Cordelia to dinner."

"Did you have a good time?" Angel wanted to know.

"Loads of fun. Or it would have been except for the skull-splittin' vision I got half-way through."

Angel's body went tense, his repressed feelings of guilt bubbling back up. "What happened?"

"Don't worry about it, man. We took care of it. Easy peasy. Listen to me, Angel. Don't be feeling all guilty about leaving us here. The PTBs let you free, and that's a good thing. Try not to worry about us. We'll be all right."

"Okay," Angel said softly. "But if you ever need help, you call me, all right? I'll be there, no matter what."

"I'll do that," Doyle promised. "Take care of yourself, mate."

"You too." Angel replaced the phone on the cradle and reached for his jacket. It was time for a family reunion.

Giles answered the door on the second ring of the doorbell. "Angel," he greeted calmly. "I was wondering when you'd stop by."

"Hi," Angel said, standing awkwardly on the threshold. "Can I—uh—can I come in?"

"Oh, yes, of course," Giles stood back to let him enter. "Can I get you anything to drink? Tea?"

"I'm good, thanks," Angel replied. "I'm actually here to talk to Spike. Buffy told me he was chained up in your bathtub." He struggled rather unsuccessfully to keep a straight face. Giles gave him a knowing smile.

"You do know he can't hurt humans, don't you?" the Watcher asked mildly.

"Yeah. Buffy told me that, too."

"The bathroom's right through here. Congratulations on your…ah…return? I'm not sure what word to use."

"Thanks," Angel said. "It's a good feeling." He decided to keep the Oracles' prophecy of early death to himself. Besides, he was going to do everything in his power to prove them wrong. His child was growing up with both parents.

He pushed open the bathroom door and smirked. Ice-blue eyes blared defiantly up at him. "Oh, lovely," Spike growled. "A witness to my humiliation. What do _you_ want, Peaches?"

"Actually, I just wanted to see you like this." Angel tilted his head. "You have to admit it has a certain…irony. Then again, I could ram red-hot pokers through _your_ abdomen and see how _you_ like it."

"Red-hot pokers?" Giles echoed, peering in from behind Angel. "I hadn't thought of that. It would be rather fun to watch him squirm, wouldn't it?"

"You won't hurt me," Spike scoffed even as he rattled the chains holding him in place. "I've got information you need, see?"

Angel grunted. "So I've been told." He stepped into the bathroom and punched Spike square in the jaw.

"Oy! What was that for?" the vampire demanded.

"You have to ask?" Angel shook out his hand. It stung a little. He was going to have to get used to the feeling of pain again. "That felt really good," he said to Giles. Giles only raised his eyebrows and sipped his tea.

"Was there anything else?" Giles asked as they left a protesting Spike behind.

"No, that was it." Angel looked from the bathroom door to Giles' face. "I don't have to tell you to be careful around him, do I?"

"Trust me, I'm not taking any chances," Giles assured him. Then he shook his head. "I can't help myself. May I?" At Angel's nod, Giles took hold of his wrist, a look of wonder growing on his face. "Extraordinary. I couldn't quite believe it but…well, obviously it's true. How do you…feel?"

Angel grinned. "Amazing. Everything is so…real, as Doyle said. And this morning I was startled by my reflection." He shook his head in amazement. "I haven't seen myself in two hundred years. It was…really weird."

Giles smiled indulgently. "I can imagine. What do you plan on doing, now?"

"Everyone keeps asking me that. Right now I'm going apartment hunting, and then I'm meeting Buffy for lunch. Tonight we'll go patroling like we used to." Angel looked down at the shorter man. "I'm here to help her however I can, Giles. You know that. I won't do anything to get in her way."

"I hope not," Giles said. "She has quite enough on her plate."

_More than you know_, Angel thought to himself. "Well, I'd better get going. It was good seeing you again."

"You, too," Giles said. "I'll see you later."

"Right." Angel closed the front door behind him and stepped into the little courtyard. For a moment he just stood there in the sun, soaking up the warmth. He had forgotten what it was like to be warm. He was always cold as a vampire.

*****

He found her easily despite his unfamiliarity with the UC Sunnydale campus. It was like she had said; there was a part of him that felt her no matter what. When she caught sight of him her entire being lit up from within and she hurried into his embrace.

"I missed you," she said, her voice muffled by his shoulder.

"Me, too. How were your classes?"

"Pretty good," she said. "Where do you want to go to eat?"

"You decide."

"Um…okay, how about Chip'n'Dale's?"

"Hot dogs?" Angel cast an inquiring look on the mother of his unborn child.

She smiled sweetly. "I've been craving one all morning."

"It is _way_ too early for that," he reminded her. "You've been pregnant all of a week."

"Yeah, but it's a good excuse. Let's go." She took his hand and he let her lead him over the school grounds. Angel took the opportunity to look around him, admiring the sunlight reflecting off the leaves of the trees.

"Buffy! Hey, Buffy!" Buffy's head whipped around as a young man with blonde hair and an athelete's physique jogged over.

"Riley. Hi," She greeted with a smile.

"Hey, I was hoping I'd catch you. I got a good look at your term paper and I was wondering if you wanted to go over it and have coffee or something." The young man was so intent on Buffy he didn't even notice Angel standing next to her. Angel sniffed out of instinct, trying to get something from the man's scent. To his surprise, he caught a whiff of cologne and something metallic, sterile.

"Um, that'd be fine," Buffy said. "Maybe this afternoon after World History?"

"Sure, that'd be great." Then Riley blinked, aware of the existence of another human being and the fact he was holding hands with Buffy. "Uh, hi?"

"Oh, Riley, this is Angel," Buffy introduced quickly. "Angel, this is Riley. He's a TA for the psych professor."

Angel said nothing and just continued to stare at Riley with a brooding expression. There was something off about this stripling, and Angel didn't like it.

"So, it's nice to meet you," Riley said after an uncomfortable pause. "I have to get going. I'll see you later, Buffy."

"Bye." As soon as Riley was out of hearing range, Buffy glared up at her lover. "You could have been nicer," she accused.

"I don't like him," Angel said flatly. Buffy snorted.

"You don't like him because he likes me," she told him.

"No, it's not that. I don't like his scent."

Buffy stared at Angel. "His _scent_?" she repeated incredulously. "Angel, you're human now. You lost all those creepy vampire senses, remember?"

He shook his head. "I'm telling you, there's something not right about him."

Buffy pressed her lips together. "Whatever. You can figure it out later. Right now me and Junior want a hot dog."

"You know, we're eventually going to have to tell your mother you're pregnant," Angel said. Buffy groaned and rolled her eyes.

"Not for a few months, please. She's having a hard enough time coming to grips with the fact we're sleeping together."

Angel frowned. "You being pregnant is going to interfere with your Slayer duties."

"We'll deal with that when the time comes," Buffy assured him. "You, Willow, and Oz should be able to take care of things."

Angel shrugged unhappily. He couldn't shake the feeling that everything was precariously balanced, and that any minute it all would come crashing down.


	5. Chapter 5

Real quick, thanks for everyone who reviewed! I didn't expect feedback so quickly and you were all very encouraging. So…thanks!

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"Angel, I was fine," Buffy said as she placed the stack of folded sweaters into a box. Several more like it were piled around the dorm room. She was officially moving into Angel's apartment, declaring once and for all the status of their relationship. Xander hadn't been happy.

"That's not the point," Angel said with a huff of frustration, taking the box from her to stack with the others. Giles, Willow, and Oz had offered to help, but they had declined in order to talk privately. "Something could have happened."

"So what, you want to wrap me in bubble wrap for the next eight and a half months?" she demanded, throwing her hands up. "It's my job, Angel. I see bad guys, I follow bad guys, I kill bad guys."

The whole ordeal with the Gentlemen had shaken them all up. Angel had not been particularly pleased when the mother of his child decided to venture blind into the old bell tower where the Gentlemen were keeping the voice box, even if it had resulted in the demise of the demons.

"I'm just saying you need to be more careful," Angel insisted. "You should have waited for me."

"You were kind of busy," she reminded him. "You had your own fiends to deal with. I took advantage of their decreased forces to attack their center of operations."

Angel gave her a strange look. "Have you been reading the Slayer manual again?"

"No. Well, yes. I mean, it doesn't matter!" Buffy put her hands on her hips. "I can take care of myself," she said firmly. Angel put the box in his hands down and walked over to stand in front of her. He put his hands over hers, still resting on her waist.

"I know that. But that doesn't mean I'm going to stop worrying," he told her softly. "Especially with the little one." Buffy softened a little, sliding one arm protectively around her stomach.

"I'll be careful," she said. "I promise. I won't go patrolling without you, or Willow, or Oz. Happy?"

"It's a start," he conceded, stealing a kiss. Then he stiffened. "Him."

Buffy blinked. "Who?"

"Riley. He's coming."

"How do you know…Um, hi Riley."

They both turned to the open door where the TA stood looking rather uncomfortable. "His smell," Angel muttered, not quite inaudibly.

"I can come back at a better time," he said, shifting his weight from foot to foot.

"No, it's all right," Buffy said wearily. "Come in." Riley had to step over a half-filled box to do so.

"You, um, going somewhere?" he asked, jerking a thumb toward the mess.

"She's moving," Angel growled, instinctively moving to stand between Riley and his lover. "What do you want?"

"I was hoping to talk to Buffy," Riley said. When Angel didn't move, Riley added, "Privately."

"We don't have secrets," Angel said sharply. Buffy put her hand on Angel's arm.

"It's all right. What is it, Riley?"

"Well, speaking of secrets…" Riley rubbed the back of his neck. "What on earth were you doing last night?"

She crossed her arms. "Could ask you the same thing," she said archly. Angel snorted. When he had finally arrived in the bell tower, he had seen Buffy standing amidst the dead Gentlemen. Apparently their heads had exploded. And then there was Riley, all dressed up like he was playing soldier.

"It's complicated," Riley stammered, sending Angel an uncomfortable glance. Angel could smell the boy's fear and mentally grinned. _Good. I want him to fear me. It'll keep him away from Buffy and our child._

"Let me try," Buffy said bitterly, beginning to pace. "You work for a paramilitary organization that kidnaps demons and other beasties, takes them to some super-secret underground lab, and performs experiments on their brains. Am I warm?"

Riley blinked. "Um, yeah, actually. How'd you guess? I mean, you aren't supposed to guess. This is all wrong." He rubbed his forehead. "I am so going to be fired."

"What gives you the right to play with lives that way?" Buffy demanded. Angel knew that tone of voice. She had the bit in her teeth and wasn't letting go. "You keep them locked up like lab rats, poking them with needles and drugging them? Okay, so they aren't all cuddly bunnies, but that doesn't mean you can treat them like—like animals! They deserve respect. Even if it's just the respect of an enemy. And I should know! I kill them!"

"Yeah, about that," Riley said. "How did you do it? You were…amazing!"

"Watch it," Angel said threateningly, moving toward the shorter man.

"Angel, stop it," Buffy said. "It's okay."

Angel didn't stop until he was nose to nose with Riley. "I don't think so," he said in a deadly quiet voice. "I really don't like the idea of using demons like guinea pigs. That's…demeaning, somehow. I'm sure you would object if demons did the same to humans, wouldn't you?"

Riley scoffed. "Well, of course," he said, finding some confidence. "It's not like they're human or anything. They're hostiles. Sub-terrestrials."

Angel's first instinct was to vamp out. For the first time since his transformation, he wished he could still assume the demonic visage if only to scare the superiority out of this whelp. "That went too far," he hissed, grabbing the front of Riley's shirt.

Buffy grabbed Angel's arm and yanked him away with all her Slayer strength. Angel had to backpedal to stay on his feet, but his glare didn't waver from Riley's face. "Angel, cut it out!" Buffy snapped. "You aren't a vampire anymore! Stop acting like one!"

"Okay, I want to know what is going on, and I want to know now!" Riley said, his voice cracking like a whip.

"You don't have to say anything, Buffy," Angel growled, keeping his weight forward. There was something about Riley that set him off, and he wasn't in the mood to try to control the violent urges.

"He already knows enough to figure it out on his own," Buffy told Angel. She turned to Riley. "I'm the Slayer." At Riley's blank stare, she continued. "Slay-er. She who hangs out in cemeteries?" Still Riley didn't react. "You're kidding. In every genera—you know, I don't feel like doing the routine. Ask around. Look it up. Slayer, comma, the."

Riley crossed his arms. "And…you fight demons."

Buffy shrugged. "So do you. It's no big."

"But you…you were…I mean, those guys were in shape. A really weird shape, but still. You really wailed on them."

"That's why they call it slaying," Buffy said dryly. The three of them stood in rather awkward silence, Buffy pensive, Riley confused, and Angel just waiting for Riley to make the wrong move.

"So," Riley said eventually. "Now what do we do?"

He felt it first as a tremor through his shoes, and then the whole building began to shake. Moving with lightning speed, Angel grabbed Buffy and pushed her toward the closet doorway, wrapping his arms protectively around her. The quake subsided a few moments later, leaving Riley looking rather jazzed.

"Whoa, that was a ride," he said with a goofy smile. Angel and Buffy exchanged worried looks.

"Giles?" Angel asked softly.

"Giles," Buffy confirmed. She was the first to the doorway. "Just…um…let yourself out," she called to Riley over her shoulder. Angel settled with one last, dark look before following.


	6. Chapter 6

"So, what should we do?" Angel asked as they walked through one of Sunnydale's many graveyards. Buffy looked up distractedly.

"Do about what?" she asked. Angel hunched his shoulders.

"About everything. Riley, the commandos, Spike, the baby."

"Why do you keep bringing the baby up?" Buffy asked crossly.

"Because it's kind of a big deal," he said, stopping to look at her in the moonlight. "You're almost nineteen, Buffy. A freshman in college. And you're having a child."

She crossed her arms. "I know," she replied. "Why are you so…weird about it?"

"Because you aren't concerned in the slightest bit at how difficult raising a child at your age is going to be!" Angel burst out.

"I'm going to have you," she reminded him. "And mom, a-and Giles. I'm not going to have to do this alone."

He put his hands on her shoulders. "I know. And I'm sorry. But all I can think about is what the Oracles telling me about one of us dying early if I stayed human. Every day I wonder if I made the right choice."

Her eyes blazed. "Don't you ever say that again," she hissed in anger. "Don't you dare! I don't give a damn about prophecies or-or oracles. I am having this baby and we are going to raise it together. No one is going to die!"

"Buffy, please," he begged, desperate for her to see the full scope of the situation. She backed away, pushing his arms off.

"No! You listen to me, Angel. I was fifteen when I was called to be the Slayer. Fifteen! All I cared about was boys and clothes a-and that sort of thing. I was just a little girl. I had to grow up so fast and any hope I had of being normal was gone." Tears pooled in her hazel eyes. "I just want some part of my life to be normal. I want to be a mommy and have a child so someone in my life won't have to be always fighting." The tears overflowed. "I want this so badly. Why can't you want it, too?"

He gathered her in his arms, distraught that he had made her cry. "I do want it," he whispered fiercely into her hair. "You have no idea how much I want this."

She dried her tears on his shirt and sniffed plaintively. "Now look at what you've done," she said, trying to lighten the mood. "I look awful when I cry."

He kissed each eyelid, tasting the salt of her tears. "No, you don't. You're always beautiful."

"You're good for my ego, you know that?" she said, smiling lopsidedly. "So…are we done talking? Can we go back to patrolling?"

He let her go reluctantly. "We still need to figure out what to do about Riley and his gang."

She shrugged. "I told Giles. He'll figure something out. And as for Spike, well, Xander hasn't staked him yet. It's not like he can hurt anyone."

"I still don't like him around," Angel muttered.

"And I'll pretend that wasn't the bazillionth time you've said that."

Angel opened his mouth to protest when something stopped him. "Demon," he snapped, his eyes darting left.

"How do you _do_ that?" Buffy demanded, spinning around with her stake in hand.

"It's the smell," he replied, prowling into the shadows. "Two of them, just over—" he was cut off by a dark, compact form crashing into him, driving him to the ground. He got a brief glimpse of his attacker and his brain went, "Hm. Polgara. That's new."

He avoided a stab from the bone spike protruding from the demon's wrist before punching the Polgara in the face. He bucked it off of him, rolling to his feet. Buffy was at his side in a flash. "You okay?" she asked as the two sides eyed each other.

"Yeah. Go!" They both lunged at the same time, attacking the Polgara with hands and feet and wooden stake. The demon was strong and fast, but it couldn't hold up forever under the sustained attack. Angel could sense it tiring long before he even began to sweat. It punched at Buffy, catching her above the hip. She stumbled backwards with a strange squeak, and Angel slipped behind the demon, snaked his arm over its shoulder to grab its chin, and snapped its neck.

"That wasn't too bad," he said, panting a little as he stared down at the body.

"Angel?" Buffy's voice was barely more than a whimper of pain. His head snapped around, frozen in place by a scent he hoped never to smell again. Buffy stood unsteadily a few feet away, hand pressed to her side. She slowly lifted her hand to her eyes, staring in horror at the blood dripping from her fingers.

*****

He charged through the doors of the emergency room. "Help!" he yelled. "I need some help here!"

Two nurses converged on him. "What happened?" "What's wrong with her?"

"She's bleeding. A lot. Here, in her side." Angel put Buffy's limp body down on the gurney they had pulled over and pressed his hand to the wound in her side. "She—she's pregnant. Please, you have to do something!"

"We'll take care of her," one of the nurses assured him. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to stay here."

"No, I have to be with her," Angel only had eyes for Buffy's pale, still face. "I can't leave her."

"We'll do everything we can," the nurse said, pushing him back. "Please wait here."

They left him standing in the waiting area, staring at the doors through which his lover had disappeared. He lifted his hand to run through his hair and realized it was covered in blood. He stared at it blankly, his nostrils full of its scent. Suddenly his stomach turned, and he lunged towards the bathroom.

He couldn't stop washing his hands. Long after the water ran clear, he continued to scrub them. Finally he dried the off, noticing that they were shaking uncontrollably, and returned to the waiting area. A doctor approached him a moment later.

"Sir?"

Angel turned on him. "How is she? Is she going to be okay?"

"Calm down, sir. We're working on stabilizing her now."

"An-and the baby?"

"We'll do everything we can," The doctor assured him. "I need to ask you a few questions first. Can you do that?" Angel nodded, swallowing tightly. "All right. What is her name? And what is yours?"

"Buffy. Buffy Summers. I'm Angel. I'm her—her boyfriend." The word felt too small, too petty for what he was to Buffy, and what she was to him.

"Angel. Can you tell me what happened?"

"She fell," Angel lied. "In the basement. There was a poker…like from a fireplace set? So much blood." He closed his eyes, still able to smell her blood. "She's going to be all right, isn't she?"

"Is there anyone you need to call?" the doctor asked gently. "Her parents?"

Angel opened his eyes. "Joyce. Oh, God." He turned his back on the doctor and headed for the phone. His hands shook so badly he could barely dial the number. "Joyce, it's Angel. Buffy—" His voice abandoned him and he cleared his throat to get it back. "Buffy's in the hospital."

He never heard Joyce's reaction. It was if his saying the words made it real and the phone dropped from his numbed fingers. He sank to the floor and leaned his head back against the wall, fighting just to breathe through the pain


	7. Chapter 7

They sat in silence, holding onto each other for dear life. They were numbed from the door opening over and over again and still there was no news. Each second that passed was a second in hell.

"Joyce! Angel!" Giles hurried toward them, Willow and Xander in tow. "Have you heard anything? How is she?"

"Still in surgery," Joyce replied as she got to her feet. Giles embraced her gently. Willow immediately flung herself into Angel's arms, already sobbing. Suddenly finding himself with someone else to comfort, Angel broke through his frozen state He cradled Willow's slender body, murmuring soothingly.

"We came as soon as we could I was so worried what happened was it a vampire is she going to be okay how long has she been in surgery what's going to happen oh my god she can't die!" Willow babbled.

Angel grabbed her shoulders and shook her gently. "Buffy's not going to die," he said firmly. "She's going to be fine. She's the Slayer. She heals fast, remember?" Even as he spoke, his mind was screaming, _This is all my fault! If I hadn't come, if I had turned the day back, none of this would have happened!_

"Right," Willow said, wiping away tears. "She's going to be okay. She has to be."

"What happened?" Xander demanded, staring accusingly at Angel.

"Polgara demon," Angel replied wearily. "It has spikes in its wrists. We killed it, but it was too late. I just thought it had hit her. I didn't realize…" he shuddered and trailed off. Joyce patted his arm.

"It's not your fault, Angel," she said softly.

"Not his fault?" Xander echoed in disbelief. "How is this not his fault? He was there, wasn't he? Buffy is always getting hurt when he's around!" He clenched his fists, his eyes snapping with anger. "You come back here acting all pure and redeemed and 'ooh, I'm human now,' and Buffy's falling over herself to make her life revolve around you even though every time you get involved something bad happens. You can never protect her!"

Angel lost it. His first blow caught Xander square in the jaw, knocking the boy right off his feet. His second would have landed in the same place if Giles' hadn't grabbed his arm. "Angel, stop!" the Watcher said commandingly. "This isn't helping Buffy!"

"No, it isn't," Angel said brokenly. "But I could have. I could have kept this from happening. But I didn't. I wanted—"

"That's a load of crap and you know it, Angel," a strong Irish accent scolded. Angel whirled around as a slightly built, dark-haired man strode towards them. "You have no way of knowing for sure what the Oracles were talking about."

"Doyle," Angel said, staring at his friend. "What are you doing here?"

"Got a vision," the half-demon said, pointing at his temple. "Came as soon as I could. Had to keep you from doing anything stupid."

"She's hurt, Doyle," Angel said, his eyes full of torment. "She's hurt really bad."

"I know," Doyle said gently, squeezing Angel's shoulder. "It'll be all right."

Angel took a deep breath and turned away, in no condition for explanations. He heard Doyle quietly introduce himself to the others. After a moment, Doyle was at his side again. "I know what you're thinking," he said. "And you're wrong. This had nothing to do with you staying human."

"But the Oracles said it would happen. One of us would die before our time," Angel protested. Doyle glared at him with the confidence that no matter how much more powerful Angel was, no matter how upset Angel became, he would never do anything to hurt his best friend.

"The Oracles say a lot of things, mate, and none of it makes sense. You can't order your life according to what they say."

Angel scrubbed a hand through his hair. He couldn't bear the waiting anymore. "Your vision," he said. "What did you see?"

"Buffy in the hospital, asleep or unconscious," Doyle said softly. "I tried to call, but I didn't reach you. I'm sorry. Maybe if I had warned you in time—"

"No," Angel cut him off. "This isn't your fault." He glared at the door. "What is taking so long?"

A doctor, the same one who had questioned Angel earlier, appeared and approached them. Angel met him halfway. "How is she?" he demanded.

"We've managed to stabilize her," the doctor said with a reassuring expression. "The wound avoided her vital organs. She'll be fine in a few weeks. They both will be."

"Oh, thank God," Joyce breathed. Angel's shoulders slumped in relief, and Doyle clapped him on the back.

"Pardon me, did you say 'both'?" Giles spoke up, blinking behind his glasses. The doctor nodded, completely oblivious.

"Yes. The fetus is still very young, three weeks at the most. A good thing, too. It might not have survived if she was further along. Now, I can't allow all of you to see her, but I'll have a nurse escort you, Mrs. Summers, and you, Mr. Angel, back to her room in a moment." He walked off, leaving Angel to answer the demanding stares directed at him.

"You didn't tell them?" Doyle asked, eyebrows raised. "Oh, now you're in for it, mate."

"Buffy's pregnant?" Joyce asked, her expression unreadable. Angel looked down at the floor, and then up to Joyce's face.

"Yeah," he said quietly.

"And you were going to tell us when?" Xander demanded caustically, his jaw already beginning to swell.

"When we decided it was your business," Angel snapped at him. He turned back to Joyce. "I'm sorry, Joyce. We just weren't sure when the right moment was, with me coming back as human and all. Buffy wanted to wait, and—"

"Oh, sure," Xander interrupted. "Blame it on the unconscious girl."

This time it was Doyle who intercepted Angel. "Go see how Buffy's doing," He told Angel. "Hold her hand, give her a kiss, and tell her everything's going to be fine." When Angel hesitated, still glaring murderously at Xander, Doyle pushed him in the direction of the waiting nurse. "Go."

As soon as Angel and Joyce were out of sight, Doyle rounded on Xander. "What is the matter with you, little man?" the Irish half-demon demanded. "Do you have a death wish or something?"

Xander glared at Doyle. "He could have stopped Buffy from getting hurt," he began, but Doyle steamrolled right over him.

"And you don't think he's not already beating himself for it? Do you have even the smallest inkling of pain Angel's going through? How much guilt he's suffering for this? Not to mention the mountain of doubt he's carrying after the blasted Oracles placed all sorts of fleas in his ear? You think that Hell Buffy sent him to was bad? Well, this is a thousand times worse."

Xander backed down from the enraged man, actually cowed by Doyle where Angel couldn't.

"What Oracles?" Giles asked into the ensuing silence. "What are you talking about?"

Doyle sighed and stuck his hands in his pockets. "It's probably not my place to say," he began. "But the Oracles, the representatives of the Powers That Be, told Angel that there were some bad things ahead of him and Buffy if he chose to stay human. If it hadn't been for the baby, he would have changed the past to keep himself a vampire in order to protect her."

"But wouldn't changing the past mean the baby wouldn't have been—" Willow cut herself off as her eyes widened. "But he wanted to keep the baby and—" Her eyes pooled with tears again. "That's so beautiful."

Doyle smiled sadly. "You should have seen him when he first found out. He couldn't stop yammering about it." He winced. "And speaking of yammering, I'd better call Cordy and tell her everyone's all right."


	8. Chapter 8

Wow! I never expected getting so many reviews! Thanks everyone for reading and here's the next chapter. Enjoy!

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Buffy looked almost peaceful, if only she hadn't been so pale. Angel moved to the bedside and placed a light kiss on her forehead. Joyce took the only chair, holding Buffy's limp hand in both of hers. Her expression was still frozen, and Angel couldn't get any idea of what she was feeling. He gave a discreet sniff, but only smelt fear and worry. At least there was no anger.

"Joyce," he said softly. "I'm sorry."

She didn't look away from her daughter. "How did this happen?" she asked. Angel sighed.

"I thought—she said she could handle herself. I shouldn't have let her fight the Polgara."

"Not that," Joyce said flatly. "She's pregnant. She's eighteen years old and she's pregnant. How could you let that happen?" Her voice broke and she pressed a hand to her mouth to keep in the tears.

Angel grabbed a stool and dragged it over to the bedside so he could sit opposite Joyce. "When I was first changed—back to human—I couldn't believe it was real. And then it was and Buffy was there—Joyce, you have to believe me when I say there is nothing in this world that I love more than Buffy. I would _never_ do anything to hurt her." And Angel was glad Joyce had never gotten the full scoop of him as Angelus.

Joyce looked up at him with guarded eyes. "I believe you," she murmured.

Angel sighed and continued. "We talked. And we were going to take it slow. But when we touched it was like our dreams coming true and we suddenly had everything we had been hoping for." He put his head in his hands. "I was so stupid. I knew how dangerous it was for us to be together. I had the option of…turning back time. Make it as if it never happened. But I couldn't. Not when I found out about the baby."

Joyce was silent for a long time. "Angel, I know Buffy loves you. I've seen the way you two look at each other and I know you'll take care of her. I just hope you know what you're doing."

Angel chuckled without sound or humor. "Me, too."

"Mom?"

Both of their attentions became glued on Buffy, whose hazel-green eyes were struggling to focus on Joyce's face. "Mom?" she murmured again.

"I'm here, honey," Joyce said, a tremulous smile on her lips. "How do you feel?"

"Bad," Buffy said. Her eyes flicked in Angel's direction. "Angel."

"Hello, beloved," he said softly, stroking her hair. "Everything is going to be all right."

She paused to catch her breath. Then, with a quick look in Joyce's direction, she asked, "Baby?"

"The baby's fine, sweetie," Joyce said. "You're both going to be fine."

Buffy relaxed, her face softening. "Got away," she said, sounding disappointed. Angel snorted in relief.

"Yeah, one got away. But it doesn't matter. I can track it down later. You concentrate on getting better, okay?"

"Okay," she murmured, her eyelids drooping. "Love you."

"We love you, too," Joyce whispered. She looked up to meet Angel's eyes and Angel suddenly knew that he would always have an ally in Joyce Summers.

*****

It was a long night, and Buffy didn't wake up again. Angel eventually sent everyone home, including Oz who had shown up with a truly spectacular bouquet of flowers. Angel had give Doyle the key to his apartment and told him to make himself at home. The half-demon didn't want to leave, but he knew there wasn't anything he could do.

Angel returned to Buffy's room with two cups of coffee and handed one to Joyce. She took it wearily. "Thank you."

Angel nodded and sat down, sipping the hot liquid. It had a different taste now that he was human: richer, and yet bitter. He liked it.

"Doyle seems nice," Joyce said suddenly. "He's from LA?"

"Not originally," Angel replied. "We was sent there to help me."

"Sent?"

"The Powers That Be, whoever they are. They give Doyle visions of bad things happening. He would warn me and I would stop it."

"And how did Cordelia fit into that?" Joyce asked, a trace of humor in her voice.

"She answered the phones and attempted to file the paperwork," Angel replied with an indulgent smile. "She isn't really good at either, but she tries."

They lapsed into silence again.

"You know, I didn't expect to be a grandmother this soon," Joyce broke the quiet. "If I ignore the sheer terror of it, I'm almost excited." She looked over at Angel. "Would you like a boy or a girl?"

"Healthy," he replied with a smile. "I couldn't believe it at first. I'm going to be a father." His expression was one of wonder. "It's the most amazing feeling in the world."

"I can imagine," Joyce said indulgently. "It's not going to be easy," she warned.

"I know," Angel assured her.

"Will you be getting married?" Joyce wanted to know. Angel frowned.

"I definitely want to. I know Buffy does, too. But I don't feel like this is the right time. We already have so much to deal with. Maybe after the baby is born."

"Probably a good idea," Joyce agreed. She stroked her daughter's hand. "How is the new job going?"

Angel grimaced slightly. He had been accepted as a part-time security officer at a medical laboratory a few minutes outside of town. "It's…tame," he replied. "Compared with what I'm used to."

"I guess anything would be when it's up against killing demons," Joyce said dryly.

"Yeah," Angel agreed. He surprised himself by yawning widely. "Um…sorry. I'm still used to this mortals need more sleep thing."

"Get some rest," Joyce instructed. "I'll wake you if there's news."

Angel hesitated, but then acquiesced. "All right. And then it's your turn in a few hours."

"Deal," Joyce said with a nod.

*****

"So the Slayer actually exists," Maggie Walsh said, pacing around the metal table. Riley Finn sat in one of the chairs, playing with a ballpoint pen. "Can we recruit her?"

"I don't know," Riley admitted. "This Angel guy really doesn't like me. I doubt he'll let me anywhere near her."

The vast area was quiet around them. Not too far away, the Pit was empty of experimental subjects, all the hostiles locked away for the night. Only a few white-coated scientists moved around, notebooks and clipboards in hand. Maggie stopped pacing and leaned against the back of an empty chair. "Tell me again what she said. Word for word."

Riley straightened in his seat and recited, "You're not a vampire anymore. Stop acting like one."

The psychology professor and leader of the Initiative drummed her fingers against the plastic chair. "Operative word, 'anymore.' We need to find out what that means. _If_ he was a vampire at some point and _if_ he isn't anymore, we must discover how the reversal was made. Riley, I'm making this your highest priority. Bring me Angel."

Riley got to his feet. "Yes, ma'am."

She paused as she walked away. "And congratulations on bagging that Polgara demon."


	9. Chapter 9

Angel caught the scent before he caught sight of the source. He wrinkled his nose and shook his head. As much as he appreciated the heightened sense, he didn't understand it, and he hated mysteries. He opened his eyes, unfolding from the chairs he had pushed together to make a temporary cot. "Riley," he growled, getting to his feet.

The blonde man stopped when he saw Angel. "I—uh—heard that Buffy had been injured," he said haltingly.

"Yeah," Angel said, his unblinking gaze never wavering from Riley's face. Riley cleared his throat.

"I was just hoping I could talk to her for a few minutes. I brought a card."

Angel reached out and plucked the envelope out of Riley's hand. "She's asleep. I'll tell her you came by."

"Um…okay. I guess I'll come back sometime, then," Riley took a step backwards.

"Don't," Angel warned. Riley stopped, raising an eyebrow inquiringly.

"Don't what?" he asked, gaining confidence from the challenge.

"Don't come near her," Angel said flatly.

"And if I do?"

Angel smiled. "I'll destroy you," he said simply. Riley looked unnerved and beat a hasty, though controlled, retreat. Angel looked down at the card he was still holding and tossed it into the garbage bin. He stood for a moment, brooding about what he had just learned.

Riley had smelt of blood. Polgara blood. There had also been the sharp smell of antiseptics, metal, and sweat. So Riley's commando buddies now had the remaining Polgara. The question was, what did they want it for?

He pushed open the door to Buffy's room and entered quietly. Joyce looked up as he found a seat. "Sleep well?" she asked softly.

"For a little while," he replied.

*****

It was a few hours past midnight when two shadows slipped through the cemetary, windng their way through mausoleums and headstones. Occasionally one would stop, and the faint sound of sniffing could be heard. Then they would continue their prowl. Already their hunt had been successful, leaving the bodies of their prey in discreet locations. Moonlight gleamed on pale skin and eager eyes. They were still eager for the kill.

"So…" Oz said, breaking the long silence. "How's Buffy?"

"She's doing good," Angel replied, spinning his stake over the back of his hand. "Getting tired of staying home at nights, though."

"She'll be back in a few days, though, right?" Oz asked, pausing to peer into a particularily dark shadow. "Slayer healing and all that?"

"I'm hoping this has convinced her to be more careful," Angel replied. He reached for his flashlight to check a mausoleum but found there was enough moonlight to see. "I don't like the idea of her patrolling with the baby."

"Well, she can probably keep it up for a few more months, right? At least until she starts to show?"

"Yeah," Angel said. He stopped and turned to look at the young werewolf. "What do you think about it?"

"About what?"

"Buffy being pregnant. I mean, you are one of her friends."

"I guess I am," Oz said with his characteristic calm. Then he said. "I'm happy for you both." He started walking again. "You think we'll come across any more vampires?"

"They seem to be unusually active tonight," Angel said. Oz suddenly froze, raising a hand in warning.

"Something?" Angel whispered. Oz scented the air cautiously.

"Something," he replied. "Familiar." He sniffed again. "Doyle."

"Doyle?" Angel repeated just as the man in question came running towards them.

"Thank God," Doyle panted upon reaching them. "Angel, you have to get out of here, now!"

"What is it?" Angel demanded, already on the move.

"There's someone on the way to kidnap you. Don't ask me any more questions; I don't know. We just need to get you home on the double."

"All right," Angel said, trusting his friend implicitely. They made it to the edge of the graveyard before the attack came. They were human; Angel could tell by the scent. They were also trained fighters. But they didn't have two centuries of experience on their side.

Angel dropped the first attacker and looked around for his friends. Doyle and Oz were practically back-to-back, barely holding their own. But the half-demon and the werewolf had a few advantages up their sleeves. Angel slammed his fist between one of the attacker's shoulder blades, driving the breath out of him and creating an opening.

"Run!" he yelled. Doyle and Oz didn't hesitate; they sprinted off, Angel on their heels. He had learned the hard way that discretion was often the better part of valor. It wasn't until they reached town that they slowed down., checking in all directions.

"Don't see anything," Oz said, panting slightly. He and Angel sniffed the air; Doyle glanced around quickly, allowed his demon face to come to the fore, and sniffed as well.

"Nothing," he confirmed. "We lost 'em."

"Or they let us go," Angel said. "Keep an eye out."

Buffy met them at the door of the apartment, immediately wrapping Angel in a tight hug. Angel embraced her carefully, mindful of her injury. "You're okay," she said into his shoulder. "Doyle had this vision and he said you were in trouble."

"We're all okay," Angel assured her. Buffy pulled away from him and hugged Doyle.

"Thank you," she said. Then she hugged Oz. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," Oz said. "Can I use your phone? I'm going to call Willow and tell her I'm not coming back tonight."

When Buffy gave him a quizzical look, Angel jumped in to explain, "I really don't think it's a good idea for us to go back out."

"Right," Buffy said. "I'll get some sheets and make up the bed."

"I'll do that," Doyle interjected quickly. "You need to get some rest, my dear. Get back in tip-top shape so I don't have to be the one saving Angel's sorry ass."

Buffy smiled prettily and tucked her hair behind one ear. "Thanks, Doyle." Once she was safely in the bedroom, Doyle turned to his friend.

"They were after you, man," he said softly. "The commando lot you told me about. They wanted you."

"Why?" Angel said, frowning. "What use could I possibly be to them?"

"Maybe that's the point," Oz interjected with his uncanny ability to cut right to the heart of matters. "Maybe they see you as a threat."

Doyle's face changed as an idea came to him. "Or an obstacle," he said grimly. "Maybe you stand in the way of what they really want."

Angel felt the blood drain from his face. "Buffy."


	10. Chapter 10

Buffy was sitting on the edge of their bed when Angel slipped into the bedroom. She held a t-shirt in her hands, as if she had been in the process of changing. "Me, huh?" she said without looking up at Angel. He closed the door and leaned back against it.

"You heard."

She snorted softly and lowered her chin, hiding her face behind a curtain of golden hair. "Slayer senses. Gotta love 'em."

Angel sighed and sat next to her, pulling her against his chest. "We don't know anything for sure, yet," he said, stroking her hair.

Buffy made a noise suspiciously similar to a sob. "How am I supposed to look him in the face tomorrow?" she asked plaintively. "I thought he was my friend, a-and then he tries to—to _kidnap_ you, and now they might be after me and the baby and I don't know what to do!" She lifted a hand to dash away the threat of tears. "Everything used to be so easy. It was see vampire, kill vampire. Now we've got Spike who can't hurt anyone but is still a jerk, bad guys who are humans and I don't kill humans, and now there's the baby—"

She took a hitching breath. "I don't want anything to happen to the baby, Angel. I don't want to risk getting hurt again. I was so scared waking up in the hospital and all I could think of was that the baby was gone."

"But you're all right. You and the baby both." Angel kissed the curve of her neck. "We'll figure things out, beloved," he assured her gently. "We'll talk to Giles and your mom. Maybe you could stay with Doyle and Cordelia in L.A."

"Stay with Cordelia for eight months?" Buffy said dryly. "You want to have to pick up the pieces?"

"Doyle can keep anything too terrible from happening," Angel said, smiling lopsidedly. "And eight months isn't that long."

Buffy snuggled closer against him. "Any time I spend away from you is too long," she murmured. Angel kissed her again.

"I know," he agreed glumly. "But it's what has to be done."

"Well," Buffy said, pushing away from him. "If I go—and I mean big if—then we'll have to make do with the time we have now." She grabbed Angel's shirt and started pulling it over his head.

"You need to be resting," he protested. She tossed his shirt aside and straddled his lap.

"Are you kidding? I spent an hour cooped up in here freaking out while you played tag with Riley's commandos. I'm totally wired."

Angel grabbed at his last, half-hearted excuse. "You're still recovering."

Buffy kissed him lingeringly, tongue exploring his lower lip. "Be gentle, then."

He had no more arguments after that. And, to be honest, he hadn't wanted to argue in the first place.

Afterwards, as they lay in a tangle of sheets and limbs, Angel breathed in her scent like sun-dried linen and his mother's herb garden on a summer afternoon and his heart was full. Full of Buffy and their unborn child, the family that he held in his arms. And he knew he would let nothing, not even the Powers That Be, take it away from him.

*****

They gathered at the bus station, a knot of family and friends closing ranks to make their farewells. Buffy looked around the circle of gloomy faces and couldn't help laughing. "It's not forever, guys," she said. "Lighten up!"

"Might as well be," Willow said glumly. "It's most of the school year. You'll never be able to catch up and then I'll graduate ahead of you!"

Joyce shook her head at the young woman and hugged Buffy. "Remember to call me," she said in a firm tone. "At least every night."

"And me," Giles added, smiling. "We want to make sure you're all right."

"And Cordelia hasn't killed you," Xander added, and winced when Doyle smacked the back of his head.

"C'mon, my dear," Doyle said, picking up Buffy's suitcase. "Let's get this show on the road."

"One second," Buffy told him, and walked over to Angel. "Give me something to last," she said for his ears only. He tilted his head to the side.

"I'm coming up this weekend," he reminded her.

"It's gonna be a long week," she countered.

"If you insist." Angel slid an arm around her waist and pulled her close, claiming her mouth in a kiss that made her mother blush. Xander groaned faintly, which earned him a jealous glare from Anya. When at last they had to break away, Buffy felt Angel press something small and cold into her palm. She clenched her fist around it to keep it safe. It was only once she was on the bus that she uncurled her fingers to see what it was.

Doyle was startled and concerned when he turned to check on Buffy and found tears streaming down her face. "What is it, Buffy?" he asked, digging a handkerchief out of his pocket. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," she replied, turning a silver object over in her fingers. When she slipped it onto her ring finger of her left hand Doyle saw that it was a Claddaugh, and she wore it with the heart pointed inwards.


	11. Chapter 11

The petite redhead raced frantically down the dark, abandoned street, casting hurried looks over her shoulder. She tripped and nearly fell, windmilling her arms to keep her balance. Her breath came in ragged pants; she had been running for a long time.

She paused for a moment to scour the street behind her before turning to smack square into the chest of her pursuer. She gave a little scream and tried to pull away, but he held fast to her arms. "Aw, is the little girl scared?" the man mocked, pulling the girl close. "Scream all you want, you're still mine."

And she had good cause to scream. The man's face was horribly disfigured, with deep ridges down his forehead, deep-set eyes that glowed venom-yellow, and a lipless mouth filled with long, sharp teeth. Sharp teeth that inched closer and closer to the girl's exposed neck.

The girl suddenly brought her knee up into the vampire's groin, causing him to loosen his grip on her. She yanked herself out of his grasp, stumbled backwards a few steps, and threw up a hand.

"Incendium!" she yelled breathlessly.

The vampire shrieked in agony as it burst into flames. Within moments, it was reduced to a pile of ashes already scattering in the night breeze. The girl stared at the spot where her enemy had stood seconds before.

"Whoa," Willow muttered to herself. "I didn't expect that to work."

"Willow!" Oz called as he jogged over. "Willow, are you all right? We saw the fire and…are those ashes?"

"Yeah," Willow replied, steadying herself against her boyfriend. "Vampire. I—uh—fwooshed it."

"Fwoosh?" Giles echoed as he joined the two younger people.

Willow made vague hand gestures. "Summoned the fire element…fwoosh!"

"I see," Giles said. Then he added, "You were supposed to wait until _after_ we started patrolling to kill vampires, Willow."

She shrugged. "Sorry."

"As long as you're okay," Oz said, rubbing her back. "Ready to go?"

She nodded. "I think so. Next time, though, I'm gonna use a stake."

"Wise choice," Giles said solemnly. The trio melted into the shadows, prepared to hunt the hunters of the night.

*****

The sun set over the ocean, tingeing the waves that crashed on the sand golden. Through the crashing of the surf, the sounds of Los Angeles could be heard, distant and yet inescapable. Most of the beach-goers had packed up for the day, only a few lingering to catch every minute of California sun.

A young woman stood barefoot on the sand, apart from the others. She turned her face into the wind, letting it blow her blonde hair back from her shoulders. Through the thin layers of her sundress, the swell of her abdomen was clearly visible. She rested a hand lightly yet protectively on her stomach, covering the life she carried within. He came from behind her, placing his hands on her shoulders as they stared out at the westering sun.

"I missed you," she said, just loud enough to be heard over the waves.

"So did I," he replied. One hand dropped to caress the curve of her belly. "How are we doing?"

"It's been pretty active," she said, leaning against his broad chest. "Likes to kick when I'm trying to take a nap."

"They do that, you know," he said with a lopsided grin. "Interrupt your life."

"I don't mind," she told him. "How's the Slaying been?"

"Routine. There hasn't been any sign of Riley. He hasn't been showing at the psychology classes, according to Willow. She and Oz were careful to spread word that you were moving to San Francisco to try to get into modeling."

"Whose idea was that?" Buffy asked, not sure whether to be indignant or amused.

"Cordelia's," Angel replied, nodding over at their mutual friend, who was walking along the waterline with Doyle. They were an odd and unexpected couple, but they seemed to really care about each other. "She said you'd be good for it. A little short, though."

"My height is fine!" Buffy insisted, offended. Angel kissed her below her ear.

"I think so, too," he assured her. She subsided, mollified by his words.

"How long can you stay?" she asked.

"Just the night. I have to be back by tomorrow afternoon."

"I have a sonogram tomorrow," she reminded him. "Can't you stay for that?"

He hesitated, and then decided skipping work would be worth it. "Okay," he agreed. Doyle and Cordelia wandered over to the other couple.

"Are you ready to head back?" Doyle asked. "It's going to get dark here in a bit."

"We don't have to go back just yet," Cordelia pointed out, tucking a strand of hair behind one ear. "All the good bars are just opening." When it came to looks, Cordelia was the exact opposite of Buffy. Dark-haired and dark-eyed, she had skin the color of cocoa and milk, with a tall, willowy figure most girls would kill for.

"You know what, the L.A. nightlife isn't really appealing to me right now," Buffy said dryly. "I don't have to drink to wake up with a headache and nausea anymore."

"Well, party poopers like yourself can grab a taxi while the rest of us have fun," Cordelia replied. She didn't mean to be insensitive, she was just…well, rather oblivious of anyone's feelings other than her own. And occasionally Doyle's. "C'mon, Angel. After all that demon slaying, you need some time off. Wind down. Blow off some steam."

"Thanks, Cordy, but I think Buffy and I'll just stay in tonight," Angel said tactfully. "You and Doyle go have a good time."

Cordelia and Doyle exchanged looks. "I could use a bit of the good stuff," Doyle admitted. Cordy smiled brightly.

"It's a date, then. See you homebodies later!"

"I like being a homebody," Buffy said with a little pout when the other two had left.

*****

Maggie Walsh stared at the grainy, yet unmistakable photograph in her hand. "So our operative's intelligence is correct. Buffy Summers is in Los Angeles. And pregnant. This is an interesting development."

"Will we be able to use this to our advantage?" asked Dr. Vincent, adjusting his thick, horn-rimmed glasses. "You were seeking to recruit the Slayer, weren't you?"

"Yes, but imagine the possibilities that this opens up," Maggie said, getting up to pace.

"It is unfortunate that we've been unable to get our hands on Angel," Vincent said, pursing his rubbery lips. "To see if vampirism can truly be reversed."

"It shouldn't be taking this long," Maggie said, tugging at her short hair in frustration. "I've given Riley almost eight months and every attempt has failed."

"The target's friends are a rather troublesome bunch, aren't they?" Vincent observed, picking up the photograph of Buffy. "Though that witch might be worth acquiring, don't you think?"

"She's more trouble than she's worth," Maggie said. "No, they must be eliminated. Quietly, with no ties back to us."

"Even if someone could connect us, what could they do?" Vincent scoffed. "Our lawyers can handle any mistakes your operatives make. Just make your problems disappear and let Wolfram & Hart clean up the mess."

Maggie glared in distaste at her chief scientist. "The Initiative is a secret organization, Vincent. It would not be in our best interests to get involved in a court hearing." Suddenly tired of the conversation, she dismissed him with a wave. "I've got an idea. A plan that should give us what we want. We just have to wait for the right moment."


	12. Chapter 12

"I got it!" Xander yelled shortly before throwing himself at the vampire in an impressive tackle. They tumbled to the ground and fetched up against a headstone, momentarily dazed. Xander raised his stake to make the killing blow and the vampire's fist flashed out, smashing him square in the nose. "Ow!" the young man yelped, falling backwards, blood trickling down his chin.

"Inflictum!"

The vampire, which had gotten to his feet and begun to stalk Xander, flew backwards from an invisible blow and sprawled on the ground twenty feet away. Xander flinched needlessly away, scrambling up and clapping a hand to his nose.

Angel pounced out of the shadows before the vampire could recover, driving his stake into the demon's heart. He straightened and looked over his shoulder. "Nice shot, Willow."

The red-haired witch smiled modestly. "Oh, it was nothing. Just a little spell. Couldn't let Xander get eaten up."

Angel turned to the younger man. "No, we couldn't have that, could we?" he said neutrally. "You okay?"

"'M fide," Xander mumbled. "'Cept for a broked dose. Oh, mad, thad _hurds!_" He probed his nose cautiously, gritting his teeth as broken cartilage ground together. "I cad barely breathe."

"Well, try to stop the bleeding," Angel said unsympathetically. "The smell is making me nauseous."

Xander glared at Angel. "You dow, for a vampire, you god a really weak stomach."

"_Former_ vampire," Angel muttered, tucking his stake in his pocket. "We might as well call it a night," he told Willow. "The blood will attract vampires, not to mention his complaining. They pick on the weak, you know."

"Hey!" Xander exclaimed. "I resedt thad!"

Angel didn't reply, only heading out of the cemetery. He breathed deeply through his nose, trying to wash out the scent of blood. The impact at the base of his skull came so quickly he didn't have time to feel pain before he lost consciousness.

*****

"Definitely not," Cordelia declared with supreme confidence. "That is so last summer."

Buffy looked from her friend to the garment in question, her eyebrows drawn together. "I think it's cute," she protested. "And it's a pretty color."

"Ruffles like that won't be in for at least another season," Cordelia insisted. "And that appliqué? Not working for you."

Buffy sighed and replaced the infant-sized dress. "I never realized shopping for a baby would be so…complicated."

"Buying clothes for any age is a delicate and intricate process," Cordelia said in a lecture voice. "There are many factors to be considered. For a baby, it's mostly the 'awww' factor that you're trying to achieve. You want to display your baby's superiority to its best advantage."

Buffy was about to reply when a twinge in her lower back made her gasp. She pressed one hand to the center of pain and the other to her heavy abdomen. "I can't wait until this baby is out of me," she said when the discomfort was gone. "Two more weeks. I can last two more weeks."

Cordelia looked at the shorter woman for a moment. "You want to go to the food court and get some fruit smoothies?" she asked in a rare moment of consideration. "It'll get you off your feet for a while."

"Sounds good," Buffy agreed instantly. "God, I feel like a cow."

"You look like one," Cordelia told her. "And your hair—did you stop using conditioner?"

"Cordelia," Buffy said warningly. Cordelia shrugged.

"Okay, okay. Just trying to help. Geez, pregnant woman hormones."

As they sat sipping on strawberry-mango smoothies, the two young women surveyed their purchases. They had been shopping for the last month, trying to get everything necessary in preparation for the birth of Buffy and Angel's child. It did Buffy good; she liked shopping and it helped the restlessness she felt from being away from the slaying too long. Not that Angel, Oz, and Willow—and even Xander and Anya—weren't doing a good job, it was simply the fact that it was Buffy's job and she was itching to get back to it.

"Doyle so should have come with us," Cordelia said, interrupting Buffy's thoughts.

"I'm not sure he would enjoy shopping for baby clothes," Buffy said, amused at the image of the Irish half-demon sorting through bibs and onesies.

"No, but he could have carried all these bags," Cordelia said plaintively, indicating their many items.

When they returned to the apartment, they were greeted by the sight of Doyle on the living room floor, his body twitching and his eyes rolled back in his head. Cordelia immediately dropped her bags and rushed to his side.

"Doyle?" she called, trying to support his head. "Doyle, what is it? What do you see?"

Buffy headed straight for the kitchen and soaked a towel in cold water. By the time she returned, Doyle was beginning to recover, his breath coming in ragged pants. Buffy handed Cordelia the towel so the other woman could bathe Doyle's face.

"What was it this time?" Buffy asked as soon as Doyle's eyes focused. He blinked a few times, looking disoriented, and then his expression changed to horror.

"Angel," he said hoarsely. "Oh, God…Angel."

*****

A sharp prick in his arm brought him out of the darkness into light and pain. Angel opened his eyes only to be assaulted by a wave of nausea. He squeezed them shut again, blocking out the stimuli overload. Concussions were so much worse as a mortal. When his stomach stopped threatening to turn inside out, he opened them to slits, trying to make out his surroundings.

The wall across from him was white, as were the ceiling and floor. There was some sort of computer station to his left, complete with a blurry, white-coated figure staring intently at the readout screens.

Angel groaned faintly and lifted his hand to his head. Or, at least, he tried. His arm rose about an inch before meeting resistance. He turned his head slowly just enough to see what was going on.

He was lying flat on his back on some sort of hospital cot, his wrist chained to the side rail by a leather manacle. Confused, he tried his other arm only to get the same result. A quick, frantic check of his feet confirmed that he was completely bound into place.

With a raw-throated cry of rage, Angel came up off the cot as far as he could without dislocating his shoulders. He thrashed against the restraints, desperately searching for some weakness. The scientist standing a few steps away didn't even look up.

A thin woman with short-blonde hair and an icy gaze walked around the cot and stood with her arms crossed, staring down at Angel as he lay panting. "Who are you?" he demanded.

The woman smiled coldly. "I'm Professor Maggie Walsh. And you are Angel. The alleged former vampire." She tilted her head, a calculating look in her eye that made Angel's insides cringe. "Welcome to the Initiative, Angel."


	13. Chapter 13

They say there was nothing more powerful than a woman scorned. Giles couldn't help but agree when his front door banged open and Buffy strode in, looking like a war-goddess in all her glory.

"Where is he?" she demanded without preamble. "Where is Angel?"

Xander and Willow exchanged anguished looks, their respective partners offering silent comfort. Giles got slowly to his fee. "Buffy, how did you—?" His question was interrupted when Doyle and Cordelia walked into the house. "We're not sure," Giles said softly.

"I am," Buffy said, putting her hands on her hips. Her eyes were as hard as green glass, her face as if it was carved from stone. "The Initiative has him. They want to use him to get to me."

"Do you have a plan?" Oz asked quietly, ready and willing to follow wherever Buffy led.

"Yes," Buffy replied, seemingly unconscious of her hand placed protectively on the curve of her abdomen. "But first we have a house call to make. Giles, come with me. Doyle, fill the others in with the details of your vision."

Giles grabbed his coat, silently acknowledging her leadership. "Where are we going?" he asked as they left his flat.

"The cemetery. Where else?" Buffy said grimly.

Giles watched in clinical fascination as Buffy slammed Spike against the wall of the crypt. "You were taken by the Initiative," the Slayer hissed. "You made it out. And now you're going to get us back in."

"You can't mean 'us,' Slayer," Spike sneered. "You're as big as a horse. What good could you possibly be?"

While Giles personally agreed with the vampire (oh, horrid thought) he was wise enough to say nothing. Buffy drove her fist into Spike's jaw and yanked a stake from her jacket, pressing it against Spike's chest.

"You remain alive as long as I don't perceive you as a threat," she said in a deadly voice. "And if you don't help us get Angel out, that's exactly what you'll be. So you'll help, or you'll dust. Your choice."

Spike glared down at the Slayer, aware of his disadvantage. Finally he snarled at Buffy. "Fine, I'll do it. But I don't give a sod about you or Peaches, clear?"

"Perfectly," Buffy said flatly. "Move it."

Back at Giles' house, Buffy mapped out what they were going to do. "Giles, Willow, Oz, and Doyle will go with Spike. Once Spike gets you into the Initiative, Willow will cast a locations spell to find Angel. You get him and you get out."

"That's a very succinct plan," Oz said. "But I feel it's necessary to point out that our weapons are going to be useless."

"That's why we brought these," Doyle said, holding up a stick as long as his arm. The end that he held was wrapped in leather. "You whack someone you don't like with these things, it'll give 'em a shock that'll put 'em out for hours."

"Okay, while you guys are playing electric whack-a-commando," Xander spoke up. "What are Anya and I going to do?"

"And me," Cordelia added. "I mean, I didn't sit on a bus the entire way here just to sit around."

"Cordelia, I want you to go to my house and explain what's going on to my mother," Buffy said. "Then stay with her. If anything happens, you get her out of there, understood?"

"I can do that," Cordelia said with a firm nod.

Buffy nodded back and turned to Xander. "Xand, you and Anya are getting guard duty."

"Guarding what?" Anya asked, her arms crossed over her chest. Buffy took a deep breath.

"Me."

*****

"So let me get this straight," Joyce said, her brow furrowed. "A middle-aged man, two college students, and a vampire who can't hurt humans are going to infiltrate a military base in order to rescue Angel?"

Cordelia tilted her head. Wow. Put that way, it sounded even more ridiculous than she had thought. "Yeah, pretty much," she said. "But Willow and Oz aren't just any old college students. Supposedly Willow's into some pretty strong magical mojo and Oz is werewolfy and all. I'm sure they'll be okay. I mean, we've done stupider stuff, like when we blew up the school to stop the Mayor."

"I'm sorry, Cordelia, but that wasn't very encouraging." Joyce continued to pace the kitchen floor. "Thank God Buffy isn't going with them. I could just imagine her leading the charge."

"Even Buffy knows better than to do something this crazy when you're the size of a whale," Cordelia said, tossing her hair over one shoulder. "I mean, seriously. The swollen ankles, the mood swings… Buffy's in no shape to any ass-kicking, demon or otherwise. Besides, she doesn't want to risk the baby."

Joyce sighed and poured herself a cup of coffee.

"Do you think she'll be able to lose all that weight after the baby's born?" Cordelia continued, leaning her elbows against the counter. "That's the worst part about pregnancy, I guess. None of your old clothes fit anymore. Though it's a good excuse to go shopping, and any opportunity should be taken. Mrs. Summers, stay here and don't move."

Joyce blinked at the young woman's sudden change and watched in bemusement as Cordelia slowly moved out of the kitchen into the dining room. She lifted the edge of the curtain from the window and peered out.

"Crap!" Cordelia yelped, and jumped back just as the window shattered. A round object, spewing thick, white smoke, rolled across the floor. "Mrs. Summers, run!"

Joyce dropped her mug and it shattered on the floor. She froze, unable to move in any direction. Cordelia grabbed her and forcibly shoved her towards the back door. They made it across the porch before the first figure attempted to accost them.

The uniformed man leveled a strange-looking weapon at the fleeing women, but Cordelia held up her hand and barked in a commanding tone, "Inflictum!" The commando flew backwards and sprawled unmoving on the ground. "Come on!" Cordelia urged, pulling Joyce after her. "We got to get out of here!"

"Where are we going?" Joyce panted as she followed the younger woman.

"Giles' place," Cordelia replied. "We'll be safe with Buffy, Xander, and Anya."

"Were those men from the Initiative?"

"Probably. They must have been looking for Buffy." Cordelia cast a look over her shoulder and breathed a silent thanks to the Powers That Be that she had studied Angel's books on witchcraft.

Cordelia didn't let them stop running until they reached the courtyard in front of Giles's flat. They were both panting, their lungs burning painfully. Cordelia gestured wordlessly and they approached the front door. As they neared it, Cordelia saw that it was ajar, and her stomach flopped.

"Hello?" she called nervously, pushing it open. "Buffy? Xander?"

Joyce stepped in behind Cordy. "I don't like this," she said hoarsely.

"Me, neither," Cordelia replied, looking around at the scattered books and broken knick-knacks. She rounded the overturned sofa and screamed in horror.

Xander lay on his back, empty eyes staring up at the ceiling. The carpet beneath him was stained crimson. Beside him, Anya was crumpled in a boneless heap, the back portion of her skull missing.

There was no sign of Buffy.


	14. Chapter 14

They returned a few hours before sunrise, exhausted and defeated. They had barely made it into the Initiative bunker before being driven out. Doyle was close to despair; he had seen his friend in danger, felt Angel's pain and fear, and he hadn't been able to stop it.

Joyce and Cordelia were sitting on the ground outside of Giles' house. Their arms were wrapped tightly around each other and they were both pale, their faces streaked with tears.

"Good lord," Giles' exclaimed, hurrying over to the two women. "What happened? Are you all right?"

"The Initiative," Cordelia said hollowly. "Attacked us."

Doyle knelt beside his girlfriend and cupped her face in one hand. "Cordy, are you all right?" he asked gently. "Did they hurt you?"

"No," she said, her voice more of a sob.

"I'll go make you some tea," Giles said, heading toward the front door.

"No!" Joyce yelled, suddenly coming to life. "Don't go in there!"

Everyone froze, staring at Buffy's mother. Even Spike looked worried and confused. Giles returned to Joyce's side and put his hand on her shoulder. "Joyce, what is it?" he asked softly.

"Th-they're dead," she whispered. "They k-killed them. They were j-just children but they g-gunned them down."

"Xander and Anya," Cordelia sobbed. "They're dead."

"NO!" Willow's shriek of anguish shattered the shocked stillness. She lunged for the door, but Oz caught her and held her fast. "Xander! No!" She broke down into deep, wracking sobs as Oz continued to hold her, rocking her back and forth.

Giles took Joyce by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. "What about Buffy?" he demanded, his blue eyes misting with tears. "Did they hurt Buffy?"

Joyce shook her head. "I-I don't know. Sh-she wasn't in th-there."

"They killed Xander a-and Anya to get her," Cordelia said, her voice muffled by Doyle's shoulder. "Oh, God, what are we going to do?"

Giles took off his glasses and sunk to the ground, utterly defeated. "I don't know," he whispered.

*****

Maggie Walsh looked up as Dr. Vincent entered her office. "Do you have the preliminary results?" she demanded.

"Yes, and they're astounding!" Vincent said enthusiastically. "Did you know that Angel can smell one part blood in a million? And his pain threshold is far above the average human's. But the most interesting thing is that his blood isn't completely human."

"What do you mean?"

"There's foreign DNA in his blood. Most definitely demon, but not one that we've studied before. And this is the good part." Vincent paused for dramatic effect. "I have reason to believe it is because of this demon DNA that Angel is human."

Maggie nodded. "Follow that lead. I want to know everything the instant you do. What about the Slayer?"

If Vincent was any more excited, he would have burst. "She is the most groundbreaking discovery we've made to date!" he exclaimed. "Superhuman strength, heightened senses, and rapid healing! If we could harness those abilities, we could make a whole army of supersoldiers!"

"What's the status of her pregnancy?"

"We can induce at any time. The fetus is viable."

"Do so immediately," Maggie ordered. "I want the second phase of testing to begin as soon as possible."

Vincent nodded, his plain features lit up with excitement. "Yes, of course."

*****

Buffy screamed.

She screamed for Angel, locked in a cell somewhere in the bunker.

She screamed for Xander and Anya, murdered trying to defend her.

She screamed for the unborn child she had failed to protect.

She screamed in pain as another contraction gripped her body, the muscles in her abdomen feeling as if they were ripping apart. Masked, faceless doctors hovered around her, muttering to each other as medical equipment monitored her labor. She wanted to beat something, inflict as much pain as she was suffering, but the leather restraints kept her in place.

"All right, this is it," said a doctor, impossible to identify. "Now push! Push, push, push."

"I AM pushing, you fucking bastard!" Buffy yelled. She threw her head back and screamed again, one long, raw-throated outpouring of pain as her world exploded into white-hot agony.

Then it was over, and Buffy lay on the hospital bed, panting and sweating. She craned her head, trying to see past the doctors clumped at the other side of the room. She heard one say, "It's female. Looks healthy." And then a high, thin wail rose above the other noise.

"My baby," Buffy said hoarsely. "Let me see my baby."

They ignored her, cleaning away the blood and fluids from both mother and child. Buffy struggled weakly against the restraints. "Please," she begged. "My daughter. Let me see her. Please!"

"Professor Walsh is going to be very pleased," said one of the doctors. "I'll let her know the birth was successful."

"Take the infant down to the nursing unit and return the Slayer to her cell."

"No!" Buffy moaned, thrashing with all her depleted strength. "Please! Let me see my baby!"

She got the briefest glimpse of a blanket-wrapped bundle as one of the doctors carried it away. Buffy collapsed in shock. They had taken her child. Her baby was gone; gone and she was left broken, exhausted and alone. Without Angel, without her baby.

Buffy screamed.

*****

Through the haze of drugs, Angel felt as if his heart was being ripped from his chest. Something was terribly wrong. He slammed himself against the transparent front wall of his cell, roaring like an enraged animal.

"Buffy!" he yelled. Something was wrong; someone was hurting her. "Buffy!" He clawed at the wall until his fingers bled, leaving red streaks on the glass, pounded the barrier with his body until his skin was covered in bruises.

Then he heard her scream.

He heard it with his soul, not his ears, and he screamed, too. Screamed with pain and horror and fear and anger. All the darkness he had been holding at bay came raging to the surface, drowning his infant humanity in deep, pure fury. His only thought was to find Buffy, find the source of her pain, and extinguish it.


	15. Chapter 15

Riley caught up with Maggie Walsh near the Pit, shortening his strides to match hers. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he hissed angrily. "Why are we holding Buffy?"

Maggie didn't even look up at him. "The Slayer is a potentially great addition to our project," she replied neutrally.

"But you took her baby away from her!" Riley burst out.

"We have plans for both the Slayer and the child, none of which includes them being together."

"Buffy isn't a demon, Professor." Riley dragged a hand through his hair. "She's not a sub-terrestrial. She's _human_, and what you're doing is just wrong!"

Maggie stopped dead in her tracks and glared up at her military leader. "You have a duty to this country and this organization, Captain Finn. If you are going to let your personal feelings interfere with that, I do not want you under my command. You have a decision to make. I can only hope you choose wisely." With that, she stalked off, leaving Riley to fume silently and alone.

*****

She sat in a corner of her cell, her knees drawn up to her chest. She stared blankly through the curtain of blonde hair drawn across her face. According to the scientists, she had been like that since the birth.

Buffy Summers had finally broken.

Riley pressed his forehead to the glass and sighed, his breath clouding his view of the young woman. He had really liked her. Still did, actually. He had even considered asking her out before he had found out she was the Slayer. And about Angel. A brief flash of jealousy twinged in his chest. How could she love a vampire—a sub-terrestrial!—enough to bear its child? Even if it was now human. Externally, at least. There was still something in Angel's eyes that remained demonic.

He reached over and swiped his key-card through the reader, opening the barrier between him and the catatonic Slayer. He stopped just out of arm's-reach, not wanting to get any closer in case she woke up.

"Buffy," he said softly. Her eyes didn't even flicker. "Buffy, I don't know if you can hear me…" He sighed again and crouched so he was eye-level with her. "I'm sorry. I had no idea this would happen when I told Professor Walsh about you. I didn't know they'd take your baby away. I never wanted to hurt you."

He hesitated, trying to sort out his words. "I don't always agree with the Professor, but I think we're doing good things here, Buffy. We're making the world safer. Please try to understand that. I'm just trying to do the right thing."

He watched her closely, searching for any sign she had heard him, but there was nothing. No indication whatsoever. It was as if she had folded up deep inside herself and gone away, leaving an empty shell behind. Riley got to his feet, feeling sad and regretful.

"I'm sorry," he said one last time, and turned to leave.

"Go to hell," came a hoarse whisper behind him. Then something hard connected with the back of his skull and he fell into darkness.

Buffy stooped to take the key card from Riley's pocket before stepping over his limp body. She glanced up and down the corridor quickly, and padded toward the door.

_Find my child. Eliminate the threat._ The two thoughts pounded in her mind and heart, driven by primal, animal instinct. But she knew if she was going to accomplish either, she was going to need help.

*****

At first he thought it was a dream or some cruel hallucination when Buffy appeared outside his cell. Angel pressed his body against the barrier, willing it to disappear so he could touch her, comfort her, and make her pain go away. He could still feel it, raw and bleeding in his soul.

She swiped a card through the reader and the glass wall retracted. Angel gathered her in his arms, trying to convince himself this was real. That's when he realized she was no longer pregnant. He pulled away and asked her a silent question. When her eyes replied, the darkness in him howled for revenge. Angelus, still present despite his release from his curse, fought to be free.

And Angel was ready to give in.

The guards never stood a chance. As Buffy and Angel made their way through the holding levels, they systematically released every hostile being held captive. Demons ran wild, attacking any human they saw. A few tried to hurt Buffy and Angel, but those quickly fell and the rest gave them a wide berth.

_It's not enough_, Angelus whispered. _They must suffer as we did. Make them pay. _

"We have to find where they're keeping her," Buffy said tersely. Angel nodded, both to his lover and to his inner demon.

"Walsh," he said. "We'll find Walsh."

The chaos gave them enough of a distraction to make it out of the holding levels. When they reached the laboratories, three guards attempted to accost them. Buffy dodged the bolt of electricity from a stunner weapon and kicked it out of the guard's hands. She was on him in a blur of hands and feet, knocking him to the ground.

An ominous snap echoed in the corridor and Angel let the body of the second guard slide bonelessly from his hands. He lunged for the last one with an animal snarl, Angelus howling for blood in his head. The hapless guard tried to bring his weapon to bear, but Angel ripped it from his grasp and wrapped his hands around the guard's neck, choking off his air. He didn't stop until the guard ceased struggling, lips tinged blue.

Buffy watched impassively as her lover took another life. She had no sympathy for these people who had ripped her child from her. She bent and grabbed the discarded stunner weapons, tossing one to Angel. Now armed, they prowled on in search of the woman who was behind all of the pain.

They found her in some sort of security center. There were no guards, but she wasn't alone. In one arm she carried an infant, tightly wrapped in a blanket. In the other she held a pistol.

"Don't come any closer," she said calmly, pointing her weapon at the baby.

Angel could smell fear-desperation-anger pouring off of the woman, but through it he could smell something else: sweet, fresh, and achingly familiar. _Mine!_ his mind screamed. That was his child Walsh was holding hostage.

Buffy froze beside him, her stunner pointed at the professor. An anguished noise escaped her lips and she took an involuntary step towards the woman holding her baby.

"I said don't move," Walsh warned. "Drop your weapons and step backwards."

After a long hesitation, Buffy and Angel reluctantly did as they were told. "What do you want?" Buffy whispered, unable to take her eyes away from her daughter.

"You are going to let me leave here alive and unharmed," Walsh said, her voice as even as if she was commenting on the weather. "And you won't come after me because the instant you do, your daughter is dead."

"Fuck you, you soulless bitch," Buffy spat, shaking with fury. "I swear I will find a way to kill you."

"And in doing so, you would condemn your child," Walsh replied. "Now stand aside."

Angelus clawed to get out, to rip this woman to shreds, to make her bleed and scream and die. But Angel was stronger, and he pulled Buffy to the side, opening a free avenue for Walsh to reach the door.

The professor wisely did not turn her back on the enraged parents of the child she was kidnapping. She slowly edged toward the exit, the gun never leaving the body of the infant. But her slow, careful path unintentionally took her within striking distance.

Angel set Angelus free.

He lunged toward Walsh with a roar, moving with inhuman speed. Buffy screamed as a gunshot rang out and the three entangled bodies collapsed to the floor.


	16. Chapter 16

No one moved for several seconds. Then a shrill, gasping cry broke the silence. Buffy threw herself to her knees, grabbing Angel and turning him over. He gasped in pain, his face twisted into a grimace. Blood sheeted down his bare chest from the hole in his upper right pectoral.

"Oh my God," Buffy breathed. "Angel…"

"The baby," he hissed between clenched teeth. Buffy gathered the infant into her arms, not even noticing the bloodstains on the blanket. Tear-filled blue eyes stared back up at her even as the tiny girl quieted, sensing the presence of her mother. Buffy gave her a watery smile.

"That's it, darling," she whispered. "Mommy's here. It's safe now."

She tucked her daughter close against her chest and supported Angel as he sat up. Buffy glanced down at Walsh. The professor lay unmoving, her neck bent at an unnatural angle. Buffy grabbed Walsh's lab coat and ripped it from the body to press to the bullet hole in Angel's chest.

"We have to get you to a hospital," she said.

"No, something first." Angel gritted his teeth and slowly got to his feet, leaning heavily on Buffy. Holding the wad of material to his wound, he walked across the room and laid a shaky hand on one of the keyboards, smearing blood on it. "She's still logged into this computer."

"What are you doing?" Buffy demanded, cradling her infant. She looked from her daughter to her lover, feeling the bloodlust drain away, but not the worry. "Angel, you're losing a lot of blood."

"All right, we can go now," he said, turning away. Buffy looked past him to the computer screen, which was flashing the words "Self Destruct Initiated."

"Oh," she said. Angel placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Elevator's this way."

The elevator took them up into one of the housing units. Angel was having trouble staying on his feet; Buffy used one arm to hold him up and the other to carry their baby. As they stepped out of the building, Buffy felt the first tremor through her feet.

"Angel, we have to get out of here," she panted.

"Not enough," he muttered, his head lolling onto her shoulder. "Not enough. Have to make 'em pay…make 'em suffer."

"Well, they're going to suffer plenty when the place blows," Buffy grunted. They started across the grass lawn, their steps agonizingly slow. The baby began to cry again, tired, hitching sobs and tore at Buffy's heart.

Then she heard a low, muffled thump that reverberated through her chest. "Oh, crap," she spat, and lowered Angel to the grass. The ground rippled, sending Buffy to her knees. She shoved the baby next to Angel and threw herself over both of them just as the shockwave hit.

Glass and shattered timber flew in all directions as the dorm exploded behind them, sending a column of flame shooting into the sky. Smoke billowed over the college grounds, covering the three battered, bloody figures lying motionlessly in the charred grass.

*****

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

"Shh, sh, sh. It's going to be okay. Don't cry."

He wasn't crying, was he? Maybe the soft, sweet voice wasn't talking to him. Everything felt distant, fuzzy. Like he was wrapped in a cloud.

Beep.

Beep.

"You can't cry and wake Daddy up, honey. If you start crying you'll have to go be with Grandma and Uncle Giles."

Beep.

He struggled to open his eyes, if only to figure out what that infernal beeping was. A blank, white ceiling greeted him and something deep inside whispered that it was wrong. He stirred faintly, automatically testing his extremities. God, he _hurt_.

"Angel?"

The voice was filled with hope and joy and love. He turned his head cautiously, noticing the oxygen line in his nostrils, and saw Buffy sitting next to his bed. He tried to say her name, but all he got out was "fff."

"Hey, you," she said, smiling. She reached out to stroke his cheek. "How you feeling?"

He groaned and she smiled wider. "Yeah. Doctor said you'd be feeling like that for a while. Apparently getting shot takes a lot out of you."

Angel mustered his strength and finally forced words through his stiff lips. "You think?"

Buffy laughed gently. "Look who I brought to see you," she said. She leaned down and placed their baby next to him. Angel managed to move his arm around her. She was the most beautiful child he had ever seen, with cloudy blue eyes that could change to be either brown like his or her mother's hazel-green. A cap of dark hair covered her pink scalp and her tiny rosebud mouth hung slightly open.

"She's incredible," Angel whispered hoarsely, tears pricking his eyes.

Buffy rested her chin atop her hands on the side rail. "She is, isn't she?" she asked, smiling gently. "Our baby girl."

Angel tore his gaze from his daughter's face. "What happened?"

"You blew up the Initiative," Buffy said wryly. "Paramedics found us when the fire department arrived. Official story is that it was a gang prank. You got shot by one of the gang members when you tried to stop him."

Angel blinked. "That's…um…good to know." He looked down again at the baby. "No one's ever going to bother you again," he told her. "I promise."

"We talked about names," Buffy said, reaching over to touch their daughter's forehead. "None of them fit, anymore."

Angel pondered for a moment. "I know," he said after a moment. "It's a name I heard once and really liked."

"What is it?" Buffy asked.

"Cadence," Angel said. "As in music."

"Cadence," Buffy repeated. "I like it." She bent over their baby. "Cadence Summers, I officially welcome you to the world." Then she kissed Angel lingeringly. "We did good," she murmured against his lips.

Angel reached up to cradle the back of her head. "We did good," he agreed.

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Yay! Finally done. I hope you all enjoyed the ending and thanks so much for reviewing. Does anyone want seconds? Tell me if you do!


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